


Alone Together

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, mentions of anders and varric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 18:56:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, this is just me writing about the scene after "Alone" and trying to get a feel for the Adan Hawke and Fenris dynamic. Implied, non-explicit sex. Fenris angsting. Adan being a purple!Hawke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone Together

She could still remember the feeling of him beneath her fingertips, which was the worst part about all of this.

She knew what he felt like, had already memorized the texture of his skin, the way ink and flesh moved beneath or above her. He was hot, hot and strong, his gaze intense as it always was, but focused on only her, as if she were the burning center of his universe.

No one had ever made her tremble like he had, all lean muscle and demanding lips and firm, strong hands pulling her into deliberate kisses. Seeing him before had been enough to make her feel small and shy, something she certainly never had been in personality.

Seeing him now…

It made her chest ache in an indescribable fashion.

After three years, nothing had changed. Being with him was a balm for the wound he’d inflicted upon her while simultaneously tearing out the stitches. He was strong, prideful, observant, but painfully inelegant, and sometimes very shy.

What he had to be wary of, Adan had not been sure of, at first.

The first several months, it was anger that had clouded her judgement, and she had considered too often adoring golden eyes that looked at her as though she were Andraste reborn. It had been nearly enough to drive her to seek solace in the arms of another, a man she respected, cared for, but had never made her feel so nervous (and certainly, said a voice within herself, had never caused her such indescribable pain).

But Adan had no desire to be treated like a doll made of fine porcelain, and as kind as those eyes could be, she could not imagine what a mage’s hands would feel like after feeling the hands of a warrior.

She could not betray all three of them in such a way.

It was only when her anger had abated and she had started to forgive him that she understood.

When she had come to understand him so well, she didn’t really know. Perhaps it was in watching his long fingers trace lines of words as hers had when they were small and stubby. Or maybe it was those quiet moments when they sat together, too close and yet not close enough, and his brow furrowed in frustration as he failed to understand something yet again.

It should be simple.

She had heard those words fall from his lips so many times, a snarl as he bared as teeth and threw the book against the wall, where it fell with a heavy thud to the ground.

Adan had seen the pride and pain mingle with his anger, and had answered his heartache with longsuffering. How many times did he blame himself for things that were beyond his control? How often did he take the more difficult path to spare himself humiliation?

The root of it all was his hatred, the past that never left him and yet evaded him all the same. Fenris was chasing the ghosts of people and places who had etched more than ink into his skin.

Never before had she been so attuned to another person. Never before had she seen so clearly the reasons for another’s actions. To make her hate him… He would rather live with that than live with the fear of losing everything he had never realized he’d wanted.

The fear of losing her.

It was stupid, Adan thought, and it made her furious with him. That should be her choice to make, but she realized that it was also his choice, and that he really hadn’t been ready for that kind of commitment.

After all, knowing Fenris was to know that he was a person whose personality was formed based on slavery and strife. He had picked up his habits because he had a need to survive, and if he was severe it was because his reality had always been a stark one, filled with ultimatums like “do or die” and “fight or run”.

When it came to the slavers, he always fought, but with everything else… He would rather hide from the people around him then put them in danger and risk their loss. Fenris had already lost so many things… how could he bear to lose more?

But now that was over, at least in deed.

There was no more need to run, something she knew he realized even as they sat in silence, his head bowed, fingers laced together. He hadn’t moved in minutes, not since Isabela had sashayed off, though Adan was certain he knew she was here. She had seen the way his shoulders tensed as she sat down across from him, as if waiting for rebuke.

Why did you want to kill your sister, Fenris? She’s your only family! You must be jealous!

Why did you storm off? There’s still work to be done!

Why are you so uncertain now when you’ve finally gotten just what you wanted? Take advantage of it, Fenris!

She could almost hear the way Fenris would understand their friends, accusing him of being a monster and a coward. The fact that Anders saw him that way, and that Merrill was very close to doing the same, probably did not help the situation, though Adan had never stepped in to mediate their arguments.

It wasn’t her place to interfere unless it was going to endanger something they were doing.

Unless it was going to endanger Fenris.

“It doesn’t feel like it should.”

The words were rough, Fenris’ voice thick with emotion, though Adan had been expecting as much. That he spoke so suddenly did not surprise her, nor did the bitter bite of his tone.

“What were you expecting it to feel like?” Her words lingered, for a moment, her own voice softer than she had intended, but she sensed his answer was forthcoming.

“I was expecting to feel relieved.”

Adan felt his eyes upon her more than anything, burdening her with the sense that her words were important.

“Not… this…” Fenris gestured frantically, meeting her gaze, something desperate in the depth of his green eyes. “ It’s so empty. Freedom tastes like ashes in my mouth. I could do anything I wanted and yet…”

“Revenge doesn’t solve anything,” Adan was typically blunt, and perhaps that was part of what had allowed Fenris to come to respect her, to value her, though she was still not certain where they stood, even as well as she had come to understand him. “All it does is leave you hollow. Ending the person who hurt you… It doesn’t replace what you’ve lost.”

You speak your mind, I’ll give you that.

“What am I supposed to do?” The note of pleading in his voice was unmistakable, and it hurt her to know that he was still so lost.

But what else could he be? Fenris hadn’t made many decisions on his own that weren’t based off his need for survival or his desire for revenge. He likely didn’t know the answer, and he didn’t even know how to go about finding it.

Fenris was a remarkable man, intelligent, brave, and excellent at understanding people at a glance, but he had been a slave and sometimes it was all too obvious. It hurt Adan to see him struggle so, as if the struggle were her own.

“I can’t answer that for you, Fenris.” She hesitated, and then reached out to brush her fingers over his knuckles; she was surprised when blue didn’t flare across his skin. “I just hope that whatever you choose, I can be there with you.”

It was so difficult to admit, that she wanted him. It made her throat constrict if only because she was certain he would push her away again in his desperation and confusion. He was emotionally vulnerable right now, angry that his efforts in murdering Danarius meant nothing. Angry that Leto had willingly asked for something Fenris despised.

If he turned her away, she wouldn't blame him, but Adan couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

He had to know. She had to stop pretending that she could just wish that night three years ago away.

She had to stop trying to convince herself that she wasn’t desperately in love with him.

“Hawke…”

The word was wary, and she withdrew her hand, but he caught it and held it, holding her palm out and staring at it with an intensity that reminded her all too much of that night three years ago. Back then, the way he had looked at her… It made made her feel more like a woman than a symbol or a hero.

“What happened three years ago… We’ve never discussed it.”

He was cautious, and Adan didn’t blame him. He was under emotional duress right now, caught up in betrayal, in losing the only family he had thought he could have. Whoever Leto had been, he was dead now.

“You didn’t want to,” despite her words, she didn’t move her hand away, her voice and gaze level.

“I can’t…” He fumbled for words, and she called his silhouette as he’d stood against the hearth in her room, strikingly black against the glow of the fire.

It was better than anything I could have dreamed.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. I can still feel your touch as if it were yesterday,” the words were painful, and he met her gaze, green eyes pleading with her to please understand. “Leaving you… It was my greatest mistake. If I could go back to that night I would tell you how I feel. I would stay.”

He was so earnest, so straightforward, that it made her heart ache to watch him.She didn’t think that he knew it, but he was a very expressive person whose every emotion played across his face with an intensity that left her breathless. It was clear he felt deeply, and right now…

“And what would you say to me, Fenris?”

He looked at her with an expression so tender and full of pain that she recalled that moment in The Hanged Man after Vanaria had fled and she had told him she would remain by him. How tender had his expression been… How it had made her heart ache with a longing that she prefered to hide away in the dark places of her mind.

“I cannot imagine a world without you.” His hand reached out, and this time it did not falter and fall back to his side. From the corner of her eye she could see the brilliant red scarf tied about his wrist, and remembered that he had been carrying her within his heart for the last three years. “Hawke… I don’t know if you can ever forgive me….”

He was apologizing.

She could feel the warmth of his palm against her flesh, feel how careful he was not to sink the cool metal of his gauntlets into her flesh, and knew that this was not a dream. Fenris was real and he was asking for her forgiveness.

“Then you want me?”

The words came unbidden, and her breath caught in her throat as she struggled with herself . Had it been the right thing to say? Would it drive him away again? Was there something she could have said to make him stay back then?

“I was a coward for leaving you,” Fenris’ voice was momentarily bitter, so bitter that it sunk into her bones. “But… I...I will follow you wherever you lead. It is my desire…”

Adan raised her fingers to his lips, watching his eyes as they fluttered shut, half-lidded. He pressed a kiss to her fingertips, the hand cupping her face reaching back to snake through her unruly, wavy mess of hair. His grip was desperate, as if he were afraid she would vanish.

“I forgive you, Fenris,” she said, the breath stolen from her lungs as she moved closer to him, longing to feel the heat of his body again. “I always understood, but knowing you regret it…” A smirk played across her lips and she laughed. “I’m just so indescribably glad--”

He cut her off with a kiss, pulling her toward him. Adan could feel her feet momentarily leave the ground before she was straddling him, sitting in his lap, kissing him with a desperation that she didn’t know she possessed.

She prided herself on being rational, but there was nothing rational about being in love with someone like Fenris.

There was a time she had worried he would drive her to insanity, as unstable as he was, as much as he hated mages, as many problems as he had, but right now there was nothing but his body and the growing feeling between them.

Fenris did love her. He loved her with the desperate dedication of a man who had lost everything and had nothing left to lose but his life, a desperation she understood all too well.

It was in his touches as he tugged at her robes, firm but not demanding, different from the reverent touches of Anders or the way Varric treated her like an extension of himself. This was not friendly, not soft, but neither was it hard and insistent.

His hand slipped down her back, pressing her closer to him, grasping her backside best as he could in this position, Adan laughed into his mouth and pulled away for a moment, kissing along his jaw, breathing in his scent, worn leather and steel and something warm and masculine that she could not place. “Not on the chair, Fenris.”

He growled, dissatisfied, and she laughed openly at him as she tried to back away and he gripped her more tightly. As he stood, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, smirking at him. “After carrying around your sword, I must be light.”

“I hate to disappoint you, Hawke, but you are heavier than my sword.” There was a light in his green eyes that hadn’t been there before, and it reminded her that Fenris was a very funny man, when the mood struck him. “I much prefer you, however.”

“As I recall, you really like my breasts.”

He stumbled back toward the bed, supporting her, though it couldn’t have been easy, and finally laid back so that he was beneath her. “It’s not just your breasts, Hawke,”

“Yes, I know. You like my ass, too,” she shifted her hips and leaned forward, pressing her body against his to emphasize her point.

For a moment, he grinned, a sight that some would say was savage, before his expression softened and he cupped her face again, drawing her into a kiss that was feather-light and full of affection. It was an attempt, she knew, to let her know that she was more than that to him-- That no matter who he had desired in the past, she was the only one he was dedicated to in this way.

When he broke away, he was grinning again.

“Hm…. Things will become much more exciting once you help me out of this armor.”

Hawke took one of his arms and found the straps to his gauntlets, glad that she could finally remove the damned things. They were intimidating, as they were meant to be, and effective in combat, but they had no place in the bedroom…

Unless you were into some very interesting things, of course.

“I’ve been waiting to see you naked again for three years, Fenris,” she muttered against his skin as she kissed behind his ear and reached around his neck after the gauntlets had been cast to the floor with a clatter and a thud. “You’d better not disappoint me.”

“The pressure is overbearing,” he droned, one hand resting comfortably on the rise of her backside, the other tracing patterns down her arm.

It was almost funny how easily they fell into banter after such a tense moment had been shared between them, but Adan didn’t mind in the slightest. Her entire life since coming to Kirkwall had been so heavy…. To have this moment of levity and freedom…

“I expect you’re ready to perform?” She arched her eyebrows and he snorted, flipping them so that she had better access to the straps of his breastplate.

“You’ve occupied my thoughts for the last three years. I promise you,” his voice was a low rumble in his chest, “I am ready to preform.”

As his breastplate fell away and the night progressed, Adan was very pleased to say Fenris was a man who kept his promises.

 


End file.
